Hustle' N' Grind

2

I'm now twenty-five years old. I went from a sidewalk to a penthouse. A bitch got cheddar. Let me be the first one to assure you, escorting ain't easy. There are some crazy people out there. You have to be prepared to open a can of whoop ass in a millisecond. Although I'm making good ass money, I never sleep with my clients. I don't have the desire to have sex. My body had been taken advantage of so much that I don't want anybody to have it. I don't own any sex toys or have the urge to touch myself, I'm just simply living my life. I wouldn't call it celibacy, I just want my body to be left alone.

To keep busy, I still work at the club, and actually managed to make friends. Melanie, and Becca. Their stage names: Remy, and Sundae. The three of us are the top dancers, the bread winners. Melanie is the flirtatious one, she had her promiscuous way as did Becca. Me being a good friend, I turned them on to the game. Madame Jackie was more than happy to welcome them in. We had a little money team going on. Big money. Somewhere down the line they have their own stories, but to be perfectly honest I don't give a fuck. Sure, I could be that friend that gives them a shoulder to cry on, but who gave me that shoulder? I made it on my own. Only one person has shown a genuine care for me, and I turned away for a reason. Independence is what I like, and I'm good at it.

I put my hair up in a shower cap. I sit down in the tub, letting the warm water soothe my tense body. I just got home from the club, it's 3:00 am. I love times like these, just me and my bubble bath. I look around my bathroom. I did all of this on my own. I'm living in the lap of luxury and I love it. After this thirty minute soak, I'm going to bed.

The following morning

I walk down the street to the local sub shop. The food always smells wonderful, and carries throughout the street. I have on my leather jacket, a yellow dress that stops at the knee, and black stilettos. My dress has a plunging neckline and form fitting. Even though it's December, I still have to look good. My hair is in a high ponytail. My hair is quite lengthy, mid-back. My mother had long hair, so I'm guessing it comes from her side of the family.

I order a meatball sub on Italian bread, with extra mozzarella cheese. To treat myself, I went ahead and got two almond brownies. I have some fresh lemonade back at my place, so this s gonna be a good meal.

I finish my last bite and my cellphone rings, reluctantly I answer.

"Hello?" hopefully this will be brief.

"Aye, you still planning on coming for my birthday party." Becca asked.

"Yeah, you know I'm coming girl. How late you gone party?" I ask that for a particularly reason. Despite the fact that my life begins at night, I hate being out at nighttime. However that's a phobia I keep to myself. Nobody knows my life story but me and God. What the fuck I'm gone tell people for? I can't stand a person that wanna cry every two minutes, talking about what they been through. OKAY! Shit, everybody got a story, save some shit for yourself. All that damn whining ain't gone change nothing either way.

"Persia? Persia, girl you still there?" Becca asked, my mind coming back to the conversation.

"Yea I'm still here." I start picking my nails.

"It's gone be a lot of niggas there. Perhaps you can get some tonight." she said. Nigga boom!

"Uh uh, oh no baby. Them men you know is either baby daddies, thugs, or scrubs. Besides I don't need no damn man to keep me happy?" she better stop while she's ahead, because she about to piss me off. One thing about me, I am always ready to check a person out of line.

"Girl when you gone learn, ain't nothing like a man that can stroked you down and lick you up until your sheets wet, and you end up watching church on tv to repent for all the sins you have done." I can hear the smile in her voice.